I have the night to myself ...myself in that he isn't here. I'm just waiting til my daughter decides she wants to sleep then, I can grab a shower and ..do whatever I want wouldn't regard.
I'm currently playing with some comp. proggie to make my own ringtones. And I had to dip into my 3000+ music collection. I'm sure there's more in there but who's counting.
I only have 1 ringtone made and set. His. Smitty ft. Robin Thicke's 'Died in your arms'. Yes it is a remix and I adore the original. But this song...gives me chills.
A shower. And I feel...momentarily sad.
I blame the song and re-reading my text to Chris from earlier.
The song? "Separate lives" by Phil Collins.
"..you have no right...to ask me how I feel...."
I've been thinking about that song for a few days now and just decided to play it. I suddenly wish I hadn't...
Momentarily talking to his mother about taking Jaiden to the park tomorrow.
For the first 2 years of Jaiden's life I was excluded (and by I I mean we*jaiden and me*) from alot of things dealing with Chris' family. It was awkward majority of the time that they were around. To bypass the 2 years ..his mom is now making an attempt to see Jaiden more often.
Now, we don't live far from each other, at all. By car, it would take all of 2 minutes to get from there, to here. They drive by here every day. Morning and evening. She's an at-home-mom/wife (seeing as how their kids are all grown up now) like me but they own many pets.
Scheduling days for her to see Jaiden is like pulling teeth. I keep reminding them they do not need an invitation to come over.
They call and say they'll show up but never do. Or they show up late. Not minutes late. Almost hours late.
It's not like Chris and I had a chance to live together in our own like I wanted because simply because he didn't want to move out of his parents' home at 30. So after a year of BSing around and I sat him down and said I wanted something more stable and him not wanting the same, I said ..ok. And we were on the verge of going our separate ways.
His parents wanted me to persuade him. But how? I let them know that if they continue to do everything for him, hell never go anywhere.
Weeks after that..I found out I was pregnant.
A week before that I was out telling a friend "I love kids, but I financially cannot support one on my own now..I'd be a great mom but I don't think I can, right now."
*sigh*
He made himself scarce after I told him, as soon as I'd found out, I showered and went over to their place, sat him down and told him.
It was his mission, thereafter, to let me know just how much he didn't want this. For weeks he'd beg me to get rid of it, how much longer..why would I want to keep it.
Little did I know why...his reasons.
He said it was because he couldn't support and take care of himself, much less someone else. He didn't 'know' how to be a dad.
What? Did someone give me a manual?
It's after midnight and I know you won't call, you won't text. And I'm ok with that.
No, I'm not but I have to be.
You distance yourself from the one person who'll always be there for you (for now) because you're simply afraid to try. And trying is the easiest part.
I must be crazy..
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
If 5.51pm 6.28.11
If my eyes could speak
It would sing you a song
No melody needed
Tell you we belong
It would sing you a song
No melody needed
Tell you we belong
If my hands could voice
The agony they feel
Mending my heart
That you swore to shield
If my feet could tell
Of the distance they would go
How far they've come
Maybe you would know
I may not always voice my hurt
My pain, but it's there
I silence myself to not cry out
Because I'm afraid you wouldn't care
Sent from my iPhone
I ridicule myself..
I know I know. I was just thinking, if people wore their true self on the outside, who they really are, I would be ugly too.
Maybe I think it's all too easy but my own faults, I'm blind to.
That may be the case with most, if not every one.
I just...
I find myself with so much self loathing, and a reoccurring hate.
An anger that I can only say stems from great disappointment in the ONE person who has let me down over and over again due to his own lack of giving a damn.
With the years of depression and loneliness to the now self inflicted solitude I reside in. I feel as though I'm a figment of the flame I used to be, burning bright then and now a fragment of ash. Barely a glow.
Cliche incoming "Be happy with yourself before others can be happy with you."
But you know what? FUCK That. As a human, as a woman, I want and need someone at my side. My want is far more than my need because many can function without a counterpart, many can function after their counterpart has come and gone, sometimes too soon.
I want someone to share with, to laugh and cry with.
I want someone who thinks of me; maybe not as often as I think of them, but it would be nice.
I want someone who evolves from 'I' or 'me' to 'us' and 'ours'. Not because we have to but because we both want to.
I want someone who dreams for us. Not just me. It's in my nature to be a dreamer.
I want someone who acts for us. Not just me. It's in my nature to get things done.
I want flowers just because and not because it was necessary.
I want a card with just 'I was thinking of you' because that's all it is.
I want to dance with no music simply because you want me that close.
I want to be close to you more than the little than we are now because it's not just something we both want but something we both desire. Not just me.
The longer we're apart the less I want to be with you but once I am, I'll recall how much I did and want you all that much more.
...
I...hate that I get angry so quick about things that shouldn't matter but I keep it to myself.
I'm human. Let me be mad for however long instead of pointing out how dumb it is. That's why kept quiet. I might already know it's DUMB. But you can't help how you feel sometimes.
I hate that I expect so much from someone who just...has no expectations of their own.
I hate how insignificant you make me feel when after 2 years of living together you still walk in after your work day and forget to say hello or simply don't acknowledge me without me doing it first.
I hate that you never miss me.
I hate that you've lost ...that love. I can see it. I can feel it.
You've become ...almost boring. Mundane. Lesser than ordinary.
Your life in the beginning resided around going out, clubs, random girls, sex with said random girls and sleep/work.
You never suggest an outing. A date. Dinner, a movie, a drive, a walk. Nothing. You'd rather sit in front the computer for hours on end with the only intention of moving to smoke. And that's because I refuse to have anyone smoke in here.
You don't eat. Won't shower.
If someone were to look at our lives they'd think you were more depressed than I am. But the thing is, you'd get away with chalking it ALL up to laziness.
It's been your crutch. Just like labeling your sarcastic attitude about EVERYTHING to you being a douchebag. And you're proud.
You enjoy shirts with the prints of a groom to be, with is bride beside him and the words "lifetime sentence" over it. Or "ball and chain for life". You tell other women you're single or you'll never marry. You 'refuse' to be.
I ask myself far too often, what do you have to offer someone? What do you offer me?
You pay the bills. You're here.
I've said that I feel like your roommate, with benefits because that's how it feels. Empty.
Boring. If I ask to go out, you say yes only because I've asked and you don't want to be the bad guy and say 'No'.
You've made yourself hygienically unavailable if I want to be intimate.
And again, I've told you all this.
I could walk out of the bedroom naked and still get no where because..you haven't showered in a day or two. And I'm ..incapable of ...self gratification.
I just, I don't understand why I'm still here.
Maybe I think it's all too easy but my own faults, I'm blind to.
That may be the case with most, if not every one.
I just...
I find myself with so much self loathing, and a reoccurring hate.
An anger that I can only say stems from great disappointment in the ONE person who has let me down over and over again due to his own lack of giving a damn.
With the years of depression and loneliness to the now self inflicted solitude I reside in. I feel as though I'm a figment of the flame I used to be, burning bright then and now a fragment of ash. Barely a glow.
Cliche incoming "Be happy with yourself before others can be happy with you."
But you know what? FUCK That. As a human, as a woman, I want and need someone at my side. My want is far more than my need because many can function without a counterpart, many can function after their counterpart has come and gone, sometimes too soon.
I want someone to share with, to laugh and cry with.
I want someone who thinks of me; maybe not as often as I think of them, but it would be nice.
I want someone who evolves from 'I' or 'me' to 'us' and 'ours'. Not because we have to but because we both want to.
I want someone who dreams for us. Not just me. It's in my nature to be a dreamer.
I want someone who acts for us. Not just me. It's in my nature to get things done.
I want flowers just because and not because it was necessary.
I want a card with just 'I was thinking of you' because that's all it is.
I want to dance with no music simply because you want me that close.
I want to be close to you more than the little than we are now because it's not just something we both want but something we both desire. Not just me.
The longer we're apart the less I want to be with you but once I am, I'll recall how much I did and want you all that much more.
...
I...hate that I get angry so quick about things that shouldn't matter but I keep it to myself.
I'm human. Let me be mad for however long instead of pointing out how dumb it is. That's why kept quiet. I might already know it's DUMB. But you can't help how you feel sometimes.
I hate that I expect so much from someone who just...has no expectations of their own.
I hate how insignificant you make me feel when after 2 years of living together you still walk in after your work day and forget to say hello or simply don't acknowledge me without me doing it first.
I hate that you never miss me.
I hate that you've lost ...that love. I can see it. I can feel it.
You've become ...almost boring. Mundane. Lesser than ordinary.
Your life in the beginning resided around going out, clubs, random girls, sex with said random girls and sleep/work.
You never suggest an outing. A date. Dinner, a movie, a drive, a walk. Nothing. You'd rather sit in front the computer for hours on end with the only intention of moving to smoke. And that's because I refuse to have anyone smoke in here.
You don't eat. Won't shower.
If someone were to look at our lives they'd think you were more depressed than I am. But the thing is, you'd get away with chalking it ALL up to laziness.
It's been your crutch. Just like labeling your sarcastic attitude about EVERYTHING to you being a douchebag. And you're proud.
You enjoy shirts with the prints of a groom to be, with is bride beside him and the words "lifetime sentence" over it. Or "ball and chain for life". You tell other women you're single or you'll never marry. You 'refuse' to be.
I ask myself far too often, what do you have to offer someone? What do you offer me?
You pay the bills. You're here.
I've said that I feel like your roommate, with benefits because that's how it feels. Empty.
Boring. If I ask to go out, you say yes only because I've asked and you don't want to be the bad guy and say 'No'.
You've made yourself hygienically unavailable if I want to be intimate.
And again, I've told you all this.
I could walk out of the bedroom naked and still get no where because..you haven't showered in a day or two. And I'm ..incapable of ...self gratification.
I just, I don't understand why I'm still here.
Oh the silence is so loud.
I didn't care that something was wrong. I'm learning to let things go, to not always 'need to know'. I'm trying my hardest to speak when I have a problem. Not to expect you to fix it but to let you know that things aren't going so well. I'm far from a complainer, though sometimes I feel otherwise. But when you lash out at me simply because of...whatever your reason is, of course I'll be hurt, and offended, and then angry thereafter.
I'm never rude to you, or anyone else (unless it's pretty damn obvious I don't like the person) only because, and god knows I wish this weren't but I don't have a pretentious bone in my body. I can't 'fake it'. I can't hide it. I like being on the the level where I am true to me, and people see that. I don't feel the need to hide behind a smile I can't stand and words I don't believe.
I deal with enough self loathing as it is and I just have never felt the need to ...give myself more.
I don't know who used to ..call you names or ridicule you when you were younger but I was fortunate enough to not have that happen to me, despite all the other bullshit I was put through.
And when you stoop to that level, I want to...just..and this is the anger. I want to physically hurt you. To pummel you. Maybe 'shoulda had a V8' smack you in the forehead for being so stupid.
And I know you aren't.
I left it with no words to you and went to bed after crying almost what seemed endlessly. You're currently 30 minutes behind schedule as it stands.
Still no words. I woke up, did what I had to do while you slept. And one you were awake, I made your coffee, which you said thank you for.
It's an hour and 10 minutes behind schedule, you're gone.
Coffee wasted down the sink, an empty hug and "I'll see you tomorrow" ..the only words spoken to me. But all you really wanted to do was leave. It surprises me how much attention you give your daughter when I'm not speaking to you. Or you know I'm mad at you. I should be mad all the time so you pay her some mind, more than you do now. Which is next to nothing.
You'll be back tomorrow and I know I won't hear from you.
And she won't know you're gone.
...It may make me a bad mom, but I won't remind her.
It's been about 2 hours and I sent a text to to.
You said you weren't going to apologize. I wasn't asking for one. And I have a pre-typed msg but I refuse to send it. I refuse to remind you of what you just said. Yet.
But one day. One, day. You'll see. Because I would have lost all patience and kindness and caring and I'll be a dangerous reminder of Last November, without the influence of alcohol.
I don't take your silence as that of you not knowing or caring.
I now take it as refusing to face and refusal to act.
Deceit.
I'm never rude to you, or anyone else (unless it's pretty damn obvious I don't like the person) only because, and god knows I wish this weren't but I don't have a pretentious bone in my body. I can't 'fake it'. I can't hide it. I like being on the the level where I am true to me, and people see that. I don't feel the need to hide behind a smile I can't stand and words I don't believe.
I deal with enough self loathing as it is and I just have never felt the need to ...give myself more.
I don't know who used to ..call you names or ridicule you when you were younger but I was fortunate enough to not have that happen to me, despite all the other bullshit I was put through.
And when you stoop to that level, I want to...just..and this is the anger. I want to physically hurt you. To pummel you. Maybe 'shoulda had a V8' smack you in the forehead for being so stupid.
And I know you aren't.
I left it with no words to you and went to bed after crying almost what seemed endlessly. You're currently 30 minutes behind schedule as it stands.
Still no words. I woke up, did what I had to do while you slept. And one you were awake, I made your coffee, which you said thank you for.
It's an hour and 10 minutes behind schedule, you're gone.
Coffee wasted down the sink, an empty hug and "I'll see you tomorrow" ..the only words spoken to me. But all you really wanted to do was leave. It surprises me how much attention you give your daughter when I'm not speaking to you. Or you know I'm mad at you. I should be mad all the time so you pay her some mind, more than you do now. Which is next to nothing.
You'll be back tomorrow and I know I won't hear from you.
And she won't know you're gone.
...It may make me a bad mom, but I won't remind her.
It's been about 2 hours and I sent a text to to.
You said you weren't going to apologize. I wasn't asking for one. And I have a pre-typed msg but I refuse to send it. I refuse to remind you of what you just said. Yet.
But one day. One, day. You'll see. Because I would have lost all patience and kindness and caring and I'll be a dangerous reminder of Last November, without the influence of alcohol.
I don't take your silence as that of you not knowing or caring.
I now take it as refusing to face and refusal to act.
Deceit.
Testing
Just wanted to see how this would load via regular email seeing as how emailing via notes resulted in double posting
Sent from my iPhone
Sent from my iPhone
You fail
You fail at being the one to say you're sorry when it ought to matter.
You fail at understanding I was never spoken down to as a child so when you do it, it makes me mad.
You fail at understanding that it's your words I never forget and it's your words that hurt the most regardless of who and why.
You fail at the simplest things to keep me happy so despite us talking... You've failed at us. And that is disappointing.
You fail at smiling at your daughter because you look too late or never look at all.
You fail at doing things that you enjoy or are good at because you are just too lazy.
You fail at romance because you feel you don't need it anymore. You won the chase and got the prize.
You fail at being healthy because you don't care if you die tomorrow.
You fail at providing for me as the one who does everything with little reward. Little appreciation or recognition.
You fail at loving equally. You fail at the word and action and almost every aspect of it ..you fail at wanting better or more because it would involve trying. And yeah .. You fail at trying.
You fail at understanding I was never spoken down to as a child so when you do it, it makes me mad.
You fail at understanding that it's your words I never forget and it's your words that hurt the most regardless of who and why.
You fail at the simplest things to keep me happy so despite us talking... You've failed at us. And that is disappointing.
You fail at smiling at your daughter because you look too late or never look at all.
You fail at doing things that you enjoy or are good at because you are just too lazy.
You fail at romance because you feel you don't need it anymore. You won the chase and got the prize.
You fail at being healthy because you don't care if you die tomorrow.
You fail at providing for me as the one who does everything with little reward. Little appreciation or recognition.
You fail at loving equally. You fail at the word and action and almost every aspect of it ..you fail at wanting better or more because it would involve trying. And yeah .. You fail at trying.
I fail at allowing it all..and staying.
Sent from my iPhone
Monday, June 27, 2011
Groggy.
That's how I feel right now. It's actually gorgeous outside at the moment, allergies will suck if I go, so I'll just remain indoors for the while. Bed came early last night so 1. Jaiden would fall asleep and 2. He would wake up for his meeting/go to work.
Usually when I ask if he's working on a Monday and I get the "I don't know..I've got a conference call at 8.30." it means..."I'll wake up for the call then go back to sleep, so....no. No work." But he's not here. No, I know where he is...
I had some of those crazy dreams last night.
Dreams I wish I didn't have because all they did was stir unrest in me. Usually, I never remember my dreams, either. I'll recall fragments, small frames.
But he had a name in his phone labeled something unreadable. And I remember dialing it, and hearing the voice...but I can't say if it was male, or female.
It's a tad later in the day now and the dream has become more of a blur at this time. Shame.
Usually when I ask if he's working on a Monday and I get the "I don't know..I've got a conference call at 8.30." it means..."I'll wake up for the call then go back to sleep, so....no. No work." But he's not here. No, I know where he is...
I had some of those crazy dreams last night.
Dreams I wish I didn't have because all they did was stir unrest in me. Usually, I never remember my dreams, either. I'll recall fragments, small frames.
But he had a name in his phone labeled something unreadable. And I remember dialing it, and hearing the voice...but I can't say if it was male, or female.
It's a tad later in the day now and the dream has become more of a blur at this time. Shame.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Me.
For a long time I've wondered if I'd be alone.
For a long time I thought I would be. It was always a fear I had. The first time I got sick from drinking I was at home with my parents. I learned my habits from my father. I drank hard like him. Scotch shots and beer chasers. And I could mix, if I had to, and not be sick. I never drank anything fruity. Never liked white alcohol. (Vodka, gin etc etc) I enjoyed my Johnny Walker Black. and my Coors light. That one evening I got home from work. It was a Saturday. Out on the balcony, just having a few. And it turned into a game. Everytime he drank, I drank. I could keep up too.
I enjoyed that small fact. I could drink and keep up 'with the boys'.
We were snacking on something called 'salt prunes' ..something from Trinidad. It's of course, a prune that was covered in a red dyed salt. An acquired taste. But we loved it.
So that in the mix with beer and scotch. I learned that I didn't need to eat while I drank or I'd be full. I'd end up being sick. So I never ate while I drank.
And before I knew what happened, I remember being dragged through the living room, my voice in my head, the blue carpet they had over the expanse of their apartment and the white walls all I could recall as I hit the water. "No one loves me...no one loves me.."...over and over again.
It's all I kept saying as my parents were fighting to save their 22 year old. Cold, naked. I threw up every where. Red stains all over from where we were to where we ended up.
They had to re-carpet the entire apartment after that.
That's when it became evident to me, to my mom, I had problems. Issues with me. My depression became more apparent as well. And I talked. I talked to her when I felt myself slipping.
When I felt like hope was all gone and I just didn't want to go on another day. I reached out. And she helped me by listening and assuring me things will get better.
Years went by...I'd met Chris. Lost Chris, though he wasn't mine to lose.
Met Mike...we went our separate ways after almost 2 years.
And Chris found me again.
Months after I came to find out my cousin had attempted to commit suicide. And suddenly I was thrusted into the limelight of talking to her. But...what could I say? I understand?
No. I couldn't.
And I wept, and confessed to him for the first time that I, too have tried, and failed..and I too, get depressed to that point. And he swore that he'd never let it happen. I'd never be that sad or lonely again.
Our time together were short intervals and rather repetitive. Friday nights we got together with friends and went club or bar hopping. Got completely shit faced. Went back to his parent's house, drank more. Sometimes we'd, in all our intoxicated-ness, would look up songs on youtube and just reminisce, play 'Who sings that' or I would coax him into playing his guitar to a few old alternative songs I knew he could play or would have loved to hear him learn.
I adored the fact he could have learned on his own.
I love music. I just can't play it. I can't read or write it.
As the years went by, I found my tolerence for alcohol fall dramatically, and it saddened me.
I had to find my limit, seek control. And beg myself to heed. There were nights out I'd just not remember. Things I'd done that I wish I hadn't because thinking about it now just makes me hate myself.
Nothing like, sex with random strangers or drugs and the like. Nothing along those lines.
Just, falling over at a Halloween party and revealing a lil too much from the back. Or kissed a girl to make a lesbian jealous. Really stupid things, you know.
And of course there was my one complete wig in November of 2010 that almost lost me everything. Including myself.
I changed for alot of people and Chris expressed that it was a shortcoming I had to bypass. Stop giving in to people so much. Learn to say no. If only he'd heed his own words.
I've worked for 14 of my 16 years in the US. Had 2 jobs in total. Own my own car (which my parents drive), lived on my own since I was 22. Had my first child before marriage at 27. I'm almost 30 now. I've wanted more for myself. But I forgot who I was for so many years that now, before wanting, I need to find me, to find out want 'me' wants.
For a long time I thought I would be. It was always a fear I had. The first time I got sick from drinking I was at home with my parents. I learned my habits from my father. I drank hard like him. Scotch shots and beer chasers. And I could mix, if I had to, and not be sick. I never drank anything fruity. Never liked white alcohol. (Vodka, gin etc etc) I enjoyed my Johnny Walker Black. and my Coors light. That one evening I got home from work. It was a Saturday. Out on the balcony, just having a few. And it turned into a game. Everytime he drank, I drank. I could keep up too.
I enjoyed that small fact. I could drink and keep up 'with the boys'.
We were snacking on something called 'salt prunes' ..something from Trinidad. It's of course, a prune that was covered in a red dyed salt. An acquired taste. But we loved it.
So that in the mix with beer and scotch. I learned that I didn't need to eat while I drank or I'd be full. I'd end up being sick. So I never ate while I drank.
And before I knew what happened, I remember being dragged through the living room, my voice in my head, the blue carpet they had over the expanse of their apartment and the white walls all I could recall as I hit the water. "No one loves me...no one loves me.."...over and over again.
It's all I kept saying as my parents were fighting to save their 22 year old. Cold, naked. I threw up every where. Red stains all over from where we were to where we ended up.
They had to re-carpet the entire apartment after that.
That's when it became evident to me, to my mom, I had problems. Issues with me. My depression became more apparent as well. And I talked. I talked to her when I felt myself slipping.
When I felt like hope was all gone and I just didn't want to go on another day. I reached out. And she helped me by listening and assuring me things will get better.
Years went by...I'd met Chris. Lost Chris, though he wasn't mine to lose.
Met Mike...we went our separate ways after almost 2 years.
And Chris found me again.
Months after I came to find out my cousin had attempted to commit suicide. And suddenly I was thrusted into the limelight of talking to her. But...what could I say? I understand?
No. I couldn't.
And I wept, and confessed to him for the first time that I, too have tried, and failed..and I too, get depressed to that point. And he swore that he'd never let it happen. I'd never be that sad or lonely again.
Our time together were short intervals and rather repetitive. Friday nights we got together with friends and went club or bar hopping. Got completely shit faced. Went back to his parent's house, drank more. Sometimes we'd, in all our intoxicated-ness, would look up songs on youtube and just reminisce, play 'Who sings that' or I would coax him into playing his guitar to a few old alternative songs I knew he could play or would have loved to hear him learn.
I adored the fact he could have learned on his own.
I love music. I just can't play it. I can't read or write it.
As the years went by, I found my tolerence for alcohol fall dramatically, and it saddened me.
I had to find my limit, seek control. And beg myself to heed. There were nights out I'd just not remember. Things I'd done that I wish I hadn't because thinking about it now just makes me hate myself.
Nothing like, sex with random strangers or drugs and the like. Nothing along those lines.
Just, falling over at a Halloween party and revealing a lil too much from the back. Or kissed a girl to make a lesbian jealous. Really stupid things, you know.
And of course there was my one complete wig in November of 2010 that almost lost me everything. Including myself.
I changed for alot of people and Chris expressed that it was a shortcoming I had to bypass. Stop giving in to people so much. Learn to say no. If only he'd heed his own words.
I've worked for 14 of my 16 years in the US. Had 2 jobs in total. Own my own car (which my parents drive), lived on my own since I was 22. Had my first child before marriage at 27. I'm almost 30 now. I've wanted more for myself. But I forgot who I was for so many years that now, before wanting, I need to find me, to find out want 'me' wants.
Today has been trying..
I woke up early after 3 hours of sleep, with the intention of taking Jaiden to the beach with Chris and his parents, and a friend of his. I spent a while trying to wake him up, and he wouldn't budge. So I contacted his mom and told her they were both still asleep. That they should go without us. I was still tired but she'd never been to the beach during the daytime. It seemed like a great opportunity. After cancelling plans, she woke up 10 minutes after, which then still gave us time to get ready. But Chris wasn't awake. And I didn't feel like calling back and changing already changed plans.
10.30 was our aim.
He woke up at 11.14 and went to the living room with his phone. I guess part of him felt bad for not waking up sooner, or when I was trying to wake him. BUT he bounced back and went right back to sleep.
I, had to stay awake with my chubs, feed her and entertain her with a huge migraine. I think I yelled at her QUITE a bit because I somehow kept drifting and she kept fwapping me in the face pretty hard for a lil munchkin. She stuck a gluestick on my nose. Wore my heels, took off her diaper on numerous occasions, which is fine, she's got a cute butt. Lol.
I just felt so edgy.
Part of me still feels upset about the beach but...I can't tell why. It's not like it's something I'd miss, or something I was looking forward to with high hopes.
10.30 was our aim.
He woke up at 11.14 and went to the living room with his phone. I guess part of him felt bad for not waking up sooner, or when I was trying to wake him. BUT he bounced back and went right back to sleep.
I, had to stay awake with my chubs, feed her and entertain her with a huge migraine. I think I yelled at her QUITE a bit because I somehow kept drifting and she kept fwapping me in the face pretty hard for a lil munchkin. She stuck a gluestick on my nose. Wore my heels, took off her diaper on numerous occasions, which is fine, she's got a cute butt. Lol.
I just felt so edgy.
Part of me still feels upset about the beach but...I can't tell why. It's not like it's something I'd miss, or something I was looking forward to with high hopes.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Lol, fuckin' Walter.
..Walter was someone I met as Chris and I was dating. Again, MySpace was the fad. He reminded me of someone I grew up with, his photo looked exactly like Joshua. He had just moved into this area, about 10 minutes away from me. I was still living at home after my relationship with Mike, my ex, went belly up the second time. So I moved out, again, and returned to my folks to start over. Walter and I had hockey in common. As well as a bad relationships. What was consistent refreshing of the messaging box of MySpace was in deed hours of communication. On my end, I didn't dream about being anything more that his friend. Why not? What was wrong with him?
Well, Nothing really. Aside from the age difference.
He was smart, good looking, well spoken. It might have been the novelty of him in itself. But it took us a while to actually meet. The first time was supposed to be for Chris' 29th birthday. I arranged it so it was us and 4 of his friends and Walter to go to a local comedy club. I foot the bill for the tickets and the drinks/food.
1. Walter never showed up. So that ticket was wasted. Awesome, right?
2. None of the friends offered to chip in anything for the night. Great!
3. I was the only sober one. Fabulous.
So with that gone, I was upset he made me spend the money as he led me to believe he'd show up. So we tried again at the local TGIF. Success. And after one or two of them...it was mutual. A friendship. A couple times we met up with Chris and other friends, and ventured off to clubs, and sometimes just ended up at Fridays to eat, drink, have some laughs. But Chris would lean on Walter because he's a guy and Walter would lean on me, because I'm not his girlfriend. He had to play both sides of the coin.
I'd later found out that he and Chris had many outings, without me knowing. Friends had seen or hear them. And he was playing with dangerous flames. Chris would tell him things that I would be far from privy to.
I have a bad habit.
Of looking too deep. Of prying, almost.
It's how I found out alot of things.
It's how I found out about Tabitha (to come soon) and it's how I found out about the second woman. It's how I found out about what Walter and Chris shared. It's also how I found out about what Chris told other women.
But with Walter, ....I'm sorry but I'm 4 beers deep and I'm angry again. But as the book says, anger is a secondary emotion so I can only say my initial emotion would be that of disappointment in myself.
Walter, used my feeling against me, against the relationship I was trying so hard to salvage. He even went as far as to tell Chris that he ought to be with someone else, and not me. This was AFTER the fact he kissed me in my car and I turned him down. After he knew how I felt about Chris. That kiss, forever brutalized on my lips.
As intoxicated as I was, I had it in me to push him away and tell him no. And for the months that ensued, remain his friend.
Chris has always been 'my one'.
I'd loved him from the moment I realized that past those beautiful blue eyes and that charismatic smile that there was someone who just needed a hand to come out. I had been that hand, while we were friends. While riding the wave of our relationship's beginning.
I knew nothing about him that could be considered 'saving'. So I knew I wasn't his angel. But I was in fact his friend. Chris did always lean quicker to a woman than a man for advice, for help. For...comfort.
Walter utilized the fact that we were an unburdened couple who could go out frequently, get drunk with no consequence. I know of a few occassions that Walter took Chris out to a local irish dive to 'look for woman' <---that is what Chris called it. Because Chris was there to talk/Walter suggested and ...that's how he stated it to the woman he spoke to after telling her he was single ..when in fact he wasn't.
Walter withheld the fact that Chris felt uneasy about the whole pregnancy thing. But he shouldn't have been the only one to know. He should have spoken to me as an adult instead of inadvertently asking for an abortion while he was seeing someone else.
Walter was the pain in my ass that grew as my problems with Chris grew.
I used him though. I hated that I did but I did. I needed that male view. I felt as though I was losing my sight. My way with Chris. And I needed another outlet. Another angle.
Don't get me wrong. Walter was fucking crazy. Without a doubt. I still have his conversations saved. And he blamed me for being angry. For being too angry.
For being too suspicious. For suspecting that Chris was up to no good majority of the time.
But you know that, Walter, you fucking moron, he was. He lied, every chance he got.
He hid delicate details about his life from other women. From me.
When I needed him he wasn't around.
Walter had his own deep seeded issues. He found his own solace in drugs and alcohol. And in relationships thar soured as quick as he defined them sweet.
There's more but I don't have the energy to go looking. Walter, would have been a great adversary to have on my side ...but he was too blindsided by the fact he lost out on great friends, and kept losing out.
Walter and I have been fighting for years. Lol. YEARS.
I don't know if it was the fact that I rejected him or...something else.
He wasn't stupid. Just...misguided alot.
Well, Nothing really. Aside from the age difference.
He was smart, good looking, well spoken. It might have been the novelty of him in itself. But it took us a while to actually meet. The first time was supposed to be for Chris' 29th birthday. I arranged it so it was us and 4 of his friends and Walter to go to a local comedy club. I foot the bill for the tickets and the drinks/food.
1. Walter never showed up. So that ticket was wasted. Awesome, right?
2. None of the friends offered to chip in anything for the night. Great!
3. I was the only sober one. Fabulous.
So with that gone, I was upset he made me spend the money as he led me to believe he'd show up. So we tried again at the local TGIF. Success. And after one or two of them...it was mutual. A friendship. A couple times we met up with Chris and other friends, and ventured off to clubs, and sometimes just ended up at Fridays to eat, drink, have some laughs. But Chris would lean on Walter because he's a guy and Walter would lean on me, because I'm not his girlfriend. He had to play both sides of the coin.
I'd later found out that he and Chris had many outings, without me knowing. Friends had seen or hear them. And he was playing with dangerous flames. Chris would tell him things that I would be far from privy to.
I have a bad habit.
Of looking too deep. Of prying, almost.
It's how I found out alot of things.
It's how I found out about Tabitha (to come soon) and it's how I found out about the second woman. It's how I found out about what Walter and Chris shared. It's also how I found out about what Chris told other women.
But with Walter, ....I'm sorry but I'm 4 beers deep and I'm angry again. But as the book says, anger is a secondary emotion so I can only say my initial emotion would be that of disappointment in myself.
Walter, used my feeling against me, against the relationship I was trying so hard to salvage. He even went as far as to tell Chris that he ought to be with someone else, and not me. This was AFTER the fact he kissed me in my car and I turned him down. After he knew how I felt about Chris. That kiss, forever brutalized on my lips.
As intoxicated as I was, I had it in me to push him away and tell him no. And for the months that ensued, remain his friend.
Chris has always been 'my one'.
I'd loved him from the moment I realized that past those beautiful blue eyes and that charismatic smile that there was someone who just needed a hand to come out. I had been that hand, while we were friends. While riding the wave of our relationship's beginning.
I knew nothing about him that could be considered 'saving'. So I knew I wasn't his angel. But I was in fact his friend. Chris did always lean quicker to a woman than a man for advice, for help. For...comfort.
Walter utilized the fact that we were an unburdened couple who could go out frequently, get drunk with no consequence. I know of a few occassions that Walter took Chris out to a local irish dive to 'look for woman' <---that is what Chris called it. Because Chris was there to talk/Walter suggested and ...that's how he stated it to the woman he spoke to after telling her he was single ..when in fact he wasn't.
Walter withheld the fact that Chris felt uneasy about the whole pregnancy thing. But he shouldn't have been the only one to know. He should have spoken to me as an adult instead of inadvertently asking for an abortion while he was seeing someone else.
Walter was the pain in my ass that grew as my problems with Chris grew.
I used him though. I hated that I did but I did. I needed that male view. I felt as though I was losing my sight. My way with Chris. And I needed another outlet. Another angle.
Don't get me wrong. Walter was fucking crazy. Without a doubt. I still have his conversations saved. And he blamed me for being angry. For being too angry.
For being too suspicious. For suspecting that Chris was up to no good majority of the time.
But you know that, Walter, you fucking moron, he was. He lied, every chance he got.
He hid delicate details about his life from other women. From me.
When I needed him he wasn't around.
Walter had his own deep seeded issues. He found his own solace in drugs and alcohol. And in relationships thar soured as quick as he defined them sweet.
- Removed me from friends because I was being honest with you and you didn't want to hear it.....or because I called you out on something?
- August 18, 2010Mindy Mohammed
- No because your last comment proves you know nothing about me. Never have, possibly never will now that it's 2 years later.
- August 18, 2010Walt Seaman
- So because you disagree, you remove me?
- August 18, 2010Mindy Mohammed
- Once again you think that sitting there and clarifying why you were flaky and wishy washy with both of us make you right and me not wanting to justify why I had every right to be angry THEN makes you better? And I'm the sarcastic one because you think my anger is a 'tough exterior'? You obviously have no idea who you're talking to.
- August 18, 2010Mindy Mohammed
- I removed you because we've had this conversation time and time again and you choose to think that because you're pointing out I was angry then make you in the clear now. it doesn't void what happened nor does it make you look any better now. it just makes the complicated situation of what was a repetitive sore now.
- August 18, 2010Mindy Mohammed
- and this only started because you think someone who you've not spoken to in a year and a half used you and hates you. I don't know his mindset or his purpose so i can't agree or disagree. but why after all this time did you have to bring it up again? to remind me I was lied to and made a fool of? to remind me my anger made me blind to alot? I know that. How DARE you sit there and say 'sarcasm' is a my smokescreen and I have a hard time stepping up to my fault. I'll be the first to say 'hey I was wrong'. and I have.
- August 18, 2010Walt Seaman
- There's no such thing as being in the clear in this lifetime for anyone. I have no need to make myself look better, I own up to my mistakes, why would I ever try and justify something to someone who isn't a friend and never will be? but I do know that someone whose so quick to jump on the defense is someone who has a guilty conscience, and I think the quote goes "The things that make one angry most assuredly is the truth."
- August 18, 2010Mindy Mohammed
- I have nothing to hide and never did so a guilty conscience doesn't reside here. I'm not the one who keeps bring it up.
- August 18, 2010Walt Seaman
- The only thing I mentioned was that for once I finally realized my part in the puzzle. The donkey, who was suppose to show preference in loyalty otherwise suffer the wrath.
- You were the one who dug further.
- August 18, 2010Mindy Mohammed
- ...well I just lost my entire post so it wasn't meant to be said ...
- August 18, 2010Walt Seaman
- Oh, the post where I again suffer the wrath, not only for the mistakes I made but also for being sucked into the lil back and forth he said she said bullshit?
Bottom line is this. You confided in me about things back then and so did he, I showed no preference, and when something was said to me in confidence it stayed that way. You can sit there all day long and swear that you were made a fool of, and that I did nothing but lie and cover for Chris. The fact is when a friend says something to me in confidence I keep it that way. Did you ever stop and think that the day I went to the bar with Chris was just to talk? Sort of like the one day you stopped by here when you didn't tell him about it? You both wanted someone to confide in and it's not my damn problem if I tried being a good friend to both of you for better or worse. I don't and won't justify the times I fucked up between the attitude and the b/s threats because I was flat out wrong those times and have regretted them ever since because I should've known better but in the heat of the moment and stupidity I lowered myself to being someone that I'm not. What I was saying before wasn't a sermon, it wasn't a justification, it wasn't me trying to point out where others went wrong...it was me telling you something as a friend because I did the same exact damn thing with Dana(And vice versa) that you two idiots did to each other and we ended up losing each other in the process. You ever stop and think that maybe I really do care and want the best for the people I care about? Probably not, but you sure did stop and think that I had all these bad intentions and vindictive ideals.
Like I said, I wasn't trying to make myself look more right, because even if I was right about one part, I was still wrong about another. But I do give a shit and you may be right, I don't know you that well, but the same goes to you about me, you assume Im a bad person, you think I'm a liar, you think all these things yet you truly don't know me. Sure, I lied to both of you at times, what the fuck was I suppose to do, just sit there and violate the others trust to benefit the other....or violate the confiding persons trust to keep the other persons trust...there was a lot I was wrong for, but a lot I didn't have a damn choice about because I was damned either way.
- August 18, 2010Walt Seaman
- I do have one last question before I go clean out my room...The day Chris told me about the whole STD ordeal...was I suppose to tell him the truth that I knew about it and that you told me...or was I suppose to play dumb and cover for my other friend who told me in confidence?
Life's easy when right and wrong are as clear as black and white, but it really does kill me when the line is blurred because I try to be honest AND trustworthy...apparently I can't be both. On the flip side of that, had I told both of you to leave me out of it, I would've been the friend who turned his back and wasn't there...like I said, damned if I did, damned if I didn't.
- August 18, 2010Walt Seaman
- And just for the record, the reason maybe I have kept bringing it up in the past was because it just slightly burns me up(Extreme Sarcasm..more like Severly pisses me off) that out of all the friends I've had in this lifetime, the two I lost were some of the select few who were actually true friends....friends that I miss and care about.
- August 19, 2010Walt Seaman
- I figured that would be your answer.
- August 19, 2010Mindy Mohammed
- ?
- August 19, 2010Walt Seaman
- Like I said, I had one question...should I have been honest with Chris and told him that I knew about it...or should I have done what I have played dumb about it and cover for you(Some would call that being deceitful which no matter how you slice it, it is lying)?
- November 4, 2010Walt Seaman
- Just so you don't think I was LYING to you, no I never ended up leaving for reasons unannounced.
There's more but I don't have the energy to go looking. Walter, would have been a great adversary to have on my side ...but he was too blindsided by the fact he lost out on great friends, and kept losing out.
Walter and I have been fighting for years. Lol. YEARS.
I don't know if it was the fact that I rejected him or...something else.
He wasn't stupid. Just...misguided alot.
Friday, June 24, 2011
I do it because I care..
And because I can, maybe. Or I feel I should. Not that I have to..
Sometimes I think I paint him as imperfect as can be. And I never mean to. He's not a selfish person with money. If I ask for something and he can do it for me, pay for it for me, he will. If I ask him to do something for me, get me a drink, let me nap, I may get that too.
He's definitely not a leader.
He's a follower.
He goes with the flow.
He'll never make plans but he'll go along with anyone elses.
He's consistently late, for everything. So that makes him inconsiderate of others.
He forgets. Alot. And part of it lays in that he's very lazy.
He procrastinates. (Who doesn't these days.)
He considers himself an 'introvert'.Which isn't true at all. An introvert doesn't like being around others. They feel worn out by being with others. Yet he's stated he prefers hanging with a small group of people. Like group date?
But we've had numerous nights where it would be just him and I at a movie or a local TGIF. Or before we got serious, a local dive bar.
He avoids his friends' calls almost always. I remember being the girlfriend who would call back his friend to find out what's up. And to tell them "Yes, he'll come out for a couple hours. " I later learned the friend I did that for/with was the friend who later would come over to get him with the plan to go to Friday's for a drink. Fridays is down the street from our apartment. His friend would assure me ..."An hour or two" as did he. They'd walk out at 8..9pm and wouldn't return til, 2...3am. Where were they? Local strip bar. Or in another town. Why? He never could say no. His friend would take him ..make him spend his money and bring him back, late, and drunk to an angry girlfriend.
But I'd have to be understanding. I'd have to be calm. And not angry.
Why? Because it is how he is.
The last time that happened, after months of me telling him this friend was no friend at all, just someone who used him, who constantly hated his own life, his own marriage and reflected everything BAD about it to him. So he got the wrong idea.
The same friend brought him back drunk but angry at some ungodly hour the last time it happened. And i laid into them both. I was ...not angry. Just...disappointed that he let it happen again but glad he saw his 'friend' for who he was.
I'm not saying his friends are bad, but they are far from good for him. He has NO strong male figure in his life. No positive one either.
So it upsets me that he has no...outsider looking in with some positive advice for him when we have a misunderstanding, for to simply point out what he has, what he's HAD for a long time and what he's done wrong. No one to say "Hey...you're my friend, and as your friend, you should should know..."
Just someone to show him it's not all bad, and won't always be bad.
Someone to tell him "Hey, it's ok to fight, to have arguments ...because she'll always be there for you. Just like you will for her, right?" Someone to reassure him sometimes. I know we all need that.
The last mutual friend we had like that, in all honesty, was a psychotic jackass. Oh...I ought to save that for a different post. See? So many different thoughts.
Sometimes I think I paint him as imperfect as can be. And I never mean to. He's not a selfish person with money. If I ask for something and he can do it for me, pay for it for me, he will. If I ask him to do something for me, get me a drink, let me nap, I may get that too.
He's definitely not a leader.
He's a follower.
He goes with the flow.
He'll never make plans but he'll go along with anyone elses.
He's consistently late, for everything. So that makes him inconsiderate of others.
He forgets. Alot. And part of it lays in that he's very lazy.
He procrastinates. (Who doesn't these days.)
He considers himself an 'introvert'.Which isn't true at all. An introvert doesn't like being around others. They feel worn out by being with others. Yet he's stated he prefers hanging with a small group of people. Like group date?
But we've had numerous nights where it would be just him and I at a movie or a local TGIF. Or before we got serious, a local dive bar.
He avoids his friends' calls almost always. I remember being the girlfriend who would call back his friend to find out what's up. And to tell them "Yes, he'll come out for a couple hours. " I later learned the friend I did that for/with was the friend who later would come over to get him with the plan to go to Friday's for a drink. Fridays is down the street from our apartment. His friend would assure me ..."An hour or two" as did he. They'd walk out at 8..9pm and wouldn't return til, 2...3am. Where were they? Local strip bar. Or in another town. Why? He never could say no. His friend would take him ..make him spend his money and bring him back, late, and drunk to an angry girlfriend.
But I'd have to be understanding. I'd have to be calm. And not angry.
Why? Because it is how he is.
The last time that happened, after months of me telling him this friend was no friend at all, just someone who used him, who constantly hated his own life, his own marriage and reflected everything BAD about it to him. So he got the wrong idea.
The same friend brought him back drunk but angry at some ungodly hour the last time it happened. And i laid into them both. I was ...not angry. Just...disappointed that he let it happen again but glad he saw his 'friend' for who he was.
I'm not saying his friends are bad, but they are far from good for him. He has NO strong male figure in his life. No positive one either.
So it upsets me that he has no...outsider looking in with some positive advice for him when we have a misunderstanding, for to simply point out what he has, what he's HAD for a long time and what he's done wrong. No one to say "Hey...you're my friend, and as your friend, you should should know..."
Just someone to show him it's not all bad, and won't always be bad.
Someone to tell him "Hey, it's ok to fight, to have arguments ...because she'll always be there for you. Just like you will for her, right?" Someone to reassure him sometimes. I know we all need that.
The last mutual friend we had like that, in all honesty, was a psychotic jackass. Oh...I ought to save that for a different post. See? So many different thoughts.
I've had this...
Opened for a while now. I don't recall if I saved whatever I'd written before or if I'd wiped it out. I've been aching to get my thoughts down since last night but between the myriad of emotions that kept swelling at what felt like every minute, I got lost. Too many stories. Too many faces, voices, majority of them mine. Lol. yes...majority of them mine.
"I know it ain't easy, giving up your heart.."
Today has come with almost the same.
So many different thoughts, feelings. And I blame it on the music.
I spoke to a friend last night via game chat - I spent a great amount of time on World Of Warcraft (yes I nerd it up) don't laugh. But in a private conversation I spilled some of what I had been going through over the last year.
She'd been my ear for a while back when I found out I was pregnant. I had shut myself in from being outside because the one person I wanted was no where to be found. The one person I should, and did call on, was too busy for me, for whatever the reason.
So when I cried. She listened.
And she hoped with me. Miles away but she sat in our vent (ventrilo) and she soothed me. I, honestly haven't had a tangible friend who have been in my presence. They've always been far away.
I learned at a young age that to trust someone is a great leap and that faith you leap with can swiftly be wiped away. I was too young to learn that lesson then. Every fear, every qualm I had, even with myself, I shared with her, not because she would judge me and not because I needed anything from her but she offered the one thing I wanted. An ear. Just someone to listen to my voice except me.
But little did I know, she was just a messenger.
I had a rival (for many reasons) back then and my rival had swindled their way into my best friend's ear and heard everything I said. And used it against me.
It was as if Superman's trust in Lois Lane was infiltrated by Lex Luther. And he comes at Superman heavily armed with Kryptonite.
I, speedily caught her up to date on what has happened over the last year and a half.
And she knew I wasn't me anymore.
She said "You lost your fight. Get it back."
And she's right. I haven't spoken to her in so long but some how, she knew.
Everyone seems to feel the same way. "Get out, get away"...
And part of me wants to. The other part....can't.
"I know it ain't easy, giving up your heart.."
Today has come with almost the same.
So many different thoughts, feelings. And I blame it on the music.
I spoke to a friend last night via game chat - I spent a great amount of time on World Of Warcraft (yes I nerd it up) don't laugh. But in a private conversation I spilled some of what I had been going through over the last year.
She'd been my ear for a while back when I found out I was pregnant. I had shut myself in from being outside because the one person I wanted was no where to be found. The one person I should, and did call on, was too busy for me, for whatever the reason.
So when I cried. She listened.
And she hoped with me. Miles away but she sat in our vent (ventrilo) and she soothed me. I, honestly haven't had a tangible friend who have been in my presence. They've always been far away.
I learned at a young age that to trust someone is a great leap and that faith you leap with can swiftly be wiped away. I was too young to learn that lesson then. Every fear, every qualm I had, even with myself, I shared with her, not because she would judge me and not because I needed anything from her but she offered the one thing I wanted. An ear. Just someone to listen to my voice except me.
But little did I know, she was just a messenger.
I had a rival (for many reasons) back then and my rival had swindled their way into my best friend's ear and heard everything I said. And used it against me.
It was as if Superman's trust in Lois Lane was infiltrated by Lex Luther. And he comes at Superman heavily armed with Kryptonite.
I, speedily caught her up to date on what has happened over the last year and a half.
And she knew I wasn't me anymore.
She said "You lost your fight. Get it back."
And she's right. I haven't spoken to her in so long but some how, she knew.
Everyone seems to feel the same way. "Get out, get away"...
And part of me wants to. The other part....can't.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Santa isn't real...12.01.03
Santa isn't real
Not your smile
Not your laughter
Not your touch
Not the words you gave and said they meant so fucking much
Not your eyes
Not your skin
Not even your hand, waving
Not even the cabin you live in
Not your hair
Not your jeans
Not your leather
Not even the robe you sauntered in
Not the words you sang
Not the music you blared
Not the voice you said you had
To scream that you cared
Not the tears you spilled
Not the nights you cried
Not the blood you shed
And not the night you almost died
Not the tunes you played
not the poems you write
Look, Santa isn't real
And that part of me isn't either.
Lol. I recall who I wrote this about. It was a scary part in my life. I wish I could be honest about it. I have ...there is someone who knows that part of my life. The part that thought I just didn't fit here and I could have fit there.
Well this was about a man who lived somewhere I can't remember, right now.
He claimed to be this gorgeous, cowboy that had this amazing body. This sexy as all hell voice (when I heard it it sounded fake as hell.) bbuuuttt that's another story.
This was written after the fact I had found out certain things.
This was when being something you weren't online was almost mandatory.
And of course, I was something I wasn't. For a long, long time.
But everything about him was fake. His accent, his voice, the songs he said he wrote, the times he said he'd try to take his life.
I don't know what it was but I enjoyed calling his bluff every, single, time.
He introduced himself as this amazing, hard to get, prize type person. A trophy man. Lol.
And I had him wrapped around my little finger as it was.
Easily if anything.
And once I found out he was a fraud, I used it to my advantage.
But...that was a long time ago.
Not your smile
Not your laughter
Not your touch
Not the words you gave and said they meant so fucking much
Not your eyes
Not your skin
Not even your hand, waving
Not even the cabin you live in
Not your hair
Not your jeans
Not your leather
Not even the robe you sauntered in
Not the words you sang
Not the music you blared
Not the voice you said you had
To scream that you cared
Not the tears you spilled
Not the nights you cried
Not the blood you shed
And not the night you almost died
Not the tunes you played
not the poems you write
Look, Santa isn't real
And that part of me isn't either.
Lol. I recall who I wrote this about. It was a scary part in my life. I wish I could be honest about it. I have ...there is someone who knows that part of my life. The part that thought I just didn't fit here and I could have fit there.
Well this was about a man who lived somewhere I can't remember, right now.
He claimed to be this gorgeous, cowboy that had this amazing body. This sexy as all hell voice (when I heard it it sounded fake as hell.) bbuuuttt that's another story.
This was written after the fact I had found out certain things.
This was when being something you weren't online was almost mandatory.
And of course, I was something I wasn't. For a long, long time.
But everything about him was fake. His accent, his voice, the songs he said he wrote, the times he said he'd try to take his life.
I don't know what it was but I enjoyed calling his bluff every, single, time.
He introduced himself as this amazing, hard to get, prize type person. A trophy man. Lol.
And I had him wrapped around my little finger as it was.
Easily if anything.
And once I found out he was a fraud, I used it to my advantage.
But...that was a long time ago.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
We should have known each other in another lifetime.
I met him in such an awkward way. Sitting at home at my desk, the light of the computer screen my only one at that hour. MySpace was a big deal then. I had just gotten off work, and was having a few beers with Johnny Walker on my own. And I was browsing some profiles when I saw his. His title was that of a 'he-man-woman-hating' type. So I messaged, just to be friendly, nothing else seeing as how I couldn't see his face in the picture he had. Just...an eye, really.
Back and forth for what seemed like minutes were hours.
It made me wonder if he was that way with everyone he'd talked to on there. Perhaps he wondered the same about me. I can't recall completely how long after we spoke. But he would throw out the 'dare' of a stalker that ought to be in the bushes outside the window of his room. So after finding out how his last gf. cheated on him and how he had the worst thoughts in the world about women, and that there were no good ones left, I found myself, unfortunately all but sober, at that bush, at some ungodly hour. Tapped on the window, and there he was. Tall, slender, most beautiful, penetrating blue eyes I ever saw. I don't even know if I knew his name, but I went in, meandered my way to his dimly lit room, and ...ah, the bed.
And that was it.
I passed out in this stranger's bed. Everything after that was....just...
Weeks went by..we'd seen each other every now and then and it didn't phase me when I hadn't. If he didn't call. I didn't mind. If he didn't text, didn't bother me.
But whenever he needed a shoulder to lean on, an ear to talk to, he called. And I was there. Oh, yes, there was a great amount of attraction. I loved his voice. So calm. Almost soothing. Time had passed and I found myself on Christmas Eve of 04?...I was at my parents enjoying the celebrating that happens yearly for my Dad's birthday. But before the drinks, the food, the undoubted chaos that would come, I found myself on the driveway of that house, waiting for him to come outside. I had grown accustomed to that red truck of his. In my hand, a card and a rose.
As a female, I found myself completely smitten with the idea of giving a single rose to that 'special someone'. I've always loved it. I love getting flowers. It shows me, that at some point in that person's day, they found time to think of me. Not just a text, ... but a real thought. And they wanted to share with me that I was on their mind.
But I stood there as I watched him stroll outside, down the driveway and to the rear of his parked truck, I gave him a hug, and handed him the rose and the card and said I couldn't stay. I wish I had said it better. "I like you a lot..." but I didn't. The card didn't say it any simpler either. But I didn't know how to talk to the opposite sex yet. I didn't know I had to spell it out for them instead of the cloak-n-dagger deal.
Guys were simpler than I gave them credit for and I didn't know that yet. I...had my own fantasy of what people who chase people do when they want someone. To swoon. To woo them.
I like letting someone know they're appreciated, thought of.
That was possibly the last night I saw him...
Because I knew then...
But ..my secret was...I had moved on without actually 'moving on'...I didn't forget him.
That relationship was possibly 2 months in. Maybe less. The details of it all, maybe I'm too ashamed to remember them. But my heart wanted what I was looking at. I thought about him too frequently not to. Not sexually. But just ...Maybe it was infatuation. It wasn't the first time I looked at a man, not a boy, and had wonderous thoughts about him. I've done that with men, older than my parents, in all truth.
But I felt something for him. With him.
...Oh for me to dig out the books I have, the pages I've written to him, for him, about him.
Back and forth for what seemed like minutes were hours.
It made me wonder if he was that way with everyone he'd talked to on there. Perhaps he wondered the same about me. I can't recall completely how long after we spoke. But he would throw out the 'dare' of a stalker that ought to be in the bushes outside the window of his room. So after finding out how his last gf. cheated on him and how he had the worst thoughts in the world about women, and that there were no good ones left, I found myself, unfortunately all but sober, at that bush, at some ungodly hour. Tapped on the window, and there he was. Tall, slender, most beautiful, penetrating blue eyes I ever saw. I don't even know if I knew his name, but I went in, meandered my way to his dimly lit room, and ...ah, the bed.
And that was it.
I passed out in this stranger's bed. Everything after that was....just...
Weeks went by..we'd seen each other every now and then and it didn't phase me when I hadn't. If he didn't call. I didn't mind. If he didn't text, didn't bother me.
But whenever he needed a shoulder to lean on, an ear to talk to, he called. And I was there. Oh, yes, there was a great amount of attraction. I loved his voice. So calm. Almost soothing. Time had passed and I found myself on Christmas Eve of 04?...I was at my parents enjoying the celebrating that happens yearly for my Dad's birthday. But before the drinks, the food, the undoubted chaos that would come, I found myself on the driveway of that house, waiting for him to come outside. I had grown accustomed to that red truck of his. In my hand, a card and a rose.
As a female, I found myself completely smitten with the idea of giving a single rose to that 'special someone'. I've always loved it. I love getting flowers. It shows me, that at some point in that person's day, they found time to think of me. Not just a text, ... but a real thought. And they wanted to share with me that I was on their mind.
But I stood there as I watched him stroll outside, down the driveway and to the rear of his parked truck, I gave him a hug, and handed him the rose and the card and said I couldn't stay. I wish I had said it better. "I like you a lot..." but I didn't. The card didn't say it any simpler either. But I didn't know how to talk to the opposite sex yet. I didn't know I had to spell it out for them instead of the cloak-n-dagger deal.
Guys were simpler than I gave them credit for and I didn't know that yet. I...had my own fantasy of what people who chase people do when they want someone. To swoon. To woo them.
I like letting someone know they're appreciated, thought of.
That was possibly the last night I saw him...
Because I knew then...
But ..my secret was...I had moved on without actually 'moving on'...I didn't forget him.
That relationship was possibly 2 months in. Maybe less. The details of it all, maybe I'm too ashamed to remember them. But my heart wanted what I was looking at. I thought about him too frequently not to. Not sexually. But just ...Maybe it was infatuation. It wasn't the first time I looked at a man, not a boy, and had wonderous thoughts about him. I've done that with men, older than my parents, in all truth.
But I felt something for him. With him.
...Oh for me to dig out the books I have, the pages I've written to him, for him, about him.
Monday, June 20, 2011
For Megan.
A daughter can never fail a mother regardless of place
Mommy's joy will always be upon her daughter's face
In her laughter and in her tears.
Regardless of place, a mother banishes fears.
In shadows and light
In dreams and dawning morn
Mommy's love for her daughter can never be shaken
Can never be torn.
For the countless hours
And the endless days
A bound unbroken these two will always share
A love, regardless of place, remains.
I wrote this for an ex-student who had lost her mother. I thought of if I had to go through that one day, I won't be as young as she is. Or..the day my daughter loses me. And then I think of the one stupid thing I did well after she was born. Some time after Last Halloween. In my early years...I worked. I finished HS. And I worked some more. I worked for crappy pay. I got my papers to stay in this country and I worked for a great amount of money. I made more then than Chris does now. Hourly. Plus bonuses. I was single, on my own, and loving it. I lived, to work, to make my money, go out, have a good time and go home to do it all again. And with all that...I drank a great deal. But it never affected me. I never got drunk to the point of not remembering anything, I never met with strangers, never kissed a stranger. lol. I know.
I was so active, and when I went out it was mostly dancing, so the alcohol was sweated out of my system, the anger I felt almost all the time was vented at work. No hang overs, no ...bad repercussions. It was a healthy lifestyle. As I got older, my job changed (not through my own desire) and I ended up with an office job. The anger remained within me, no port to release. The alcohol remained in me, because we never went dancing. ...I had our child, and it all remained. No office job, and the little I did drink, came back ten fold. The anger raged. And the alcohol didn't help at all. There were nights that just 2 shots would do me in, or beer. And I would forget. Everything would be a total blackout. And the next day I'd have to listen to the shit I had said, or done, and embarassed myself, or him, or us both with something foolish. Thankfully, it was never frequent.
And that one night, I lost it, and .... it was the one night I completely lost myself and was about to finish myself in the bath room, huge blade to my wrist. With no ...energy to slice it. Just...spurts to hack at the tiny limb.
I had apparently gotten angry because talk of marriage had come up. I can hear it clear as a bell "If you want to be married, you're with the wrong person. I'll never marry you."
And the years...YEARS of ...everything I endured for him, with him, without him, the things I found out, the things he'd said, done, everything I had to put up with, came flooding back....and I released. The shots of Captain Morgan made sure my mouth had no cap, and I let go.
Stomping from room to room, yelling....angry...hurt...so hurt...
The words shot out so muddled and I ...he said I said things about our daughter that were irrelevant to her, but said nonetheless. And words...hurt. I know that first hand.
Words can't be erased.
Words can't be forgotten.
And words are rarely, if ever, forgiven.
I know that very well.
Mommy's joy will always be upon her daughter's face
In her laughter and in her tears.
Regardless of place, a mother banishes fears.
In shadows and light
In dreams and dawning morn
Mommy's love for her daughter can never be shaken
Can never be torn.
For the countless hours
And the endless days
A bound unbroken these two will always share
A love, regardless of place, remains.
I wrote this for an ex-student who had lost her mother. I thought of if I had to go through that one day, I won't be as young as she is. Or..the day my daughter loses me. And then I think of the one stupid thing I did well after she was born. Some time after Last Halloween. In my early years...I worked. I finished HS. And I worked some more. I worked for crappy pay. I got my papers to stay in this country and I worked for a great amount of money. I made more then than Chris does now. Hourly. Plus bonuses. I was single, on my own, and loving it. I lived, to work, to make my money, go out, have a good time and go home to do it all again. And with all that...I drank a great deal. But it never affected me. I never got drunk to the point of not remembering anything, I never met with strangers, never kissed a stranger. lol. I know.
I was so active, and when I went out it was mostly dancing, so the alcohol was sweated out of my system, the anger I felt almost all the time was vented at work. No hang overs, no ...bad repercussions. It was a healthy lifestyle. As I got older, my job changed (not through my own desire) and I ended up with an office job. The anger remained within me, no port to release. The alcohol remained in me, because we never went dancing. ...I had our child, and it all remained. No office job, and the little I did drink, came back ten fold. The anger raged. And the alcohol didn't help at all. There were nights that just 2 shots would do me in, or beer. And I would forget. Everything would be a total blackout. And the next day I'd have to listen to the shit I had said, or done, and embarassed myself, or him, or us both with something foolish. Thankfully, it was never frequent.
And that one night, I lost it, and .... it was the one night I completely lost myself and was about to finish myself in the bath room, huge blade to my wrist. With no ...energy to slice it. Just...spurts to hack at the tiny limb.
I had apparently gotten angry because talk of marriage had come up. I can hear it clear as a bell "If you want to be married, you're with the wrong person. I'll never marry you."
And the years...YEARS of ...everything I endured for him, with him, without him, the things I found out, the things he'd said, done, everything I had to put up with, came flooding back....and I released. The shots of Captain Morgan made sure my mouth had no cap, and I let go.
Stomping from room to room, yelling....angry...hurt...so hurt...
The words shot out so muddled and I ...he said I said things about our daughter that were irrelevant to her, but said nonetheless. And words...hurt. I know that first hand.
Words can't be erased.
Words can't be forgotten.
And words are rarely, if ever, forgiven.
I know that very well.
Mixed emotions
I thought I had felt better, but I don't. I saw something else that might have been a mistake? Sent to the wrong person? The number wasn't logged. It was a picture entitled "Butt" but it was the picture of someone's ass in cut off pants from the waist down, sitting, laying..
I don't know.
So I texted back. "Who is this?"
As far as I know, there was no reply. But it's things like that that make me wonder. As it should. I called it even, the number, no answer.
Maybe I'm too suspicious for my own good? I've lost myself in being worried for so long that it's almost too difficult not to, anymore. I'm too much of an "all or nothing" sorta person, I guess. I know I'm not the only person like that in the world. But how can it be too much to ask, you want honesty? I do too.
You want fairness? Me too
Loyalty and faithfulness? Me too.
I don't need to know who you talked to all day, I don't need to know where you went, unless it's important. Would it be something that would upset you if I knew? I look at it as ..I'm human. I'm allowed to be angry, sad, upset, at times. And I will be without your permission, so let me. It won't last forever. It may last a few moments, an hour, a day. But if it's irrelevant to us, to you and me then I won't remember it when the time comes. It's not important enough to be recalled.
I keep getting this weird feeling, these odd looks, like, suspicion. Like, he knows ... or thinks I know. He's got to know the pictures are gone by now. And if he does, and he's concerned, he's hiding it decently. Then again, deceit knows many masks. I could spot a liar, and I have been lied to.
Sometimes it's nice to be asked "How are you today? Is there anything I can do, anything you need."..it's nice to know you're thought of, and concerned about.
We were talking about something, and I don't remember if we were alone or with my parents...
But he said "Why do you think I call you almost every day." - truth of the matter is..he doesn't. Whether in Jersey or in another state..I've gone DAYS without speaking to him. His daughter's gone days, sometimes the entire time without knowing he's not there. He hasn't come home. As she grows, she has the fleeting "Da-da" ..but she's not of age yet, I feel. But as a parent who's away as often as he is, I would be worried. Maybe it's a mommy thing, maybe it's because I spend all day with her and I have been away from her for more than a day but...I just it would hurt me to know she doesn't think of me and wonder where I am after a certain amount of time.
He seems unaffected. And unfortunately whenever I bring it up he takes it with a grand assault and assumes I'm saying he's a bad parent. But ...
I don't know.
So I texted back. "Who is this?"
As far as I know, there was no reply. But it's things like that that make me wonder. As it should. I called it even, the number, no answer.
Maybe I'm too suspicious for my own good? I've lost myself in being worried for so long that it's almost too difficult not to, anymore. I'm too much of an "all or nothing" sorta person, I guess. I know I'm not the only person like that in the world. But how can it be too much to ask, you want honesty? I do too.
You want fairness? Me too
Loyalty and faithfulness? Me too.
I don't need to know who you talked to all day, I don't need to know where you went, unless it's important. Would it be something that would upset you if I knew? I look at it as ..I'm human. I'm allowed to be angry, sad, upset, at times. And I will be without your permission, so let me. It won't last forever. It may last a few moments, an hour, a day. But if it's irrelevant to us, to you and me then I won't remember it when the time comes. It's not important enough to be recalled.
I keep getting this weird feeling, these odd looks, like, suspicion. Like, he knows ... or thinks I know. He's got to know the pictures are gone by now. And if he does, and he's concerned, he's hiding it decently. Then again, deceit knows many masks. I could spot a liar, and I have been lied to.
Sometimes it's nice to be asked "How are you today? Is there anything I can do, anything you need."..it's nice to know you're thought of, and concerned about.
We were talking about something, and I don't remember if we were alone or with my parents...
But he said "Why do you think I call you almost every day." - truth of the matter is..he doesn't. Whether in Jersey or in another state..I've gone DAYS without speaking to him. His daughter's gone days, sometimes the entire time without knowing he's not there. He hasn't come home. As she grows, she has the fleeting "Da-da" ..but she's not of age yet, I feel. But as a parent who's away as often as he is, I would be worried. Maybe it's a mommy thing, maybe it's because I spend all day with her and I have been away from her for more than a day but...I just it would hurt me to know she doesn't think of me and wonder where I am after a certain amount of time.
He seems unaffected. And unfortunately whenever I bring it up he takes it with a grand assault and assumes I'm saying he's a bad parent. But ...
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Still uneasy
I find it ...disheartening that ...you think I'd never find out. Not that you did anything wrong, yet. But that you thought you were by hiding what you had. By using words you once used with another and said it was "A joke". What if it was me? What if I...had done those things. I believe in doing onto others as you'd have done onto you. Which is why I hate, and find it impossible, to lie. I can't do it. I'm possibly incapable of it. Too many tell tale signs, and I really suck at it. My poker face fails me. I just...never believed in doing something like that to someone else because I've watched it done. I've...seen the damage it can cause.
What if I hadn't found out. What if I didn't ...the same thing would have happened maybe. I know, I know, just because he wanted it doesn't mean she would have let it happen. And according to her, nothing has, and would never.
...and honestly, after speaking to her, she is WAY out of your league. So much over your head and I honestly, in my heart of hearts, not cheapening myself in the least, think you wouldn't be able to handle the person she is.
My words are but fragments
Bits and pieces of truth right now
not an entire honesty
..no ...I wouldn't know how.
My words are just nonsense
right now anyways
Filled with a silent venom
...is it lessening with the days?
My words make me uneasy
..they make me cringe with no delight
they're forcing the hurt to surface
..these words...
....I don't want to write.
...3.48am
What if I hadn't found out. What if I didn't ...the same thing would have happened maybe. I know, I know, just because he wanted it doesn't mean she would have let it happen. And according to her, nothing has, and would never.
...and honestly, after speaking to her, she is WAY out of your league. So much over your head and I honestly, in my heart of hearts, not cheapening myself in the least, think you wouldn't be able to handle the person she is.
My words are but fragments
Bits and pieces of truth right now
not an entire honesty
..no ...I wouldn't know how.
My words are just nonsense
right now anyways
Filled with a silent venom
...is it lessening with the days?
My words make me uneasy
..they make me cringe with no delight
they're forcing the hurt to surface
..these words...
....I don't want to write.
...3.48am
Friday, June 17, 2011
Upon This Night's Decline - 3.25.05
2.57am
Fading lights, not a sound
The silence stills the night
I can feel your eyes even in the dark
The pressure between us still hasn't taken flight.
Stifled cry, drying tears
Your final words used to refuse my embrace
I dare not reach over to touch upon you
For you've refused me to even look upon your face.
Tired breath, easy sighs
Thoughts left alone tonight about this
"Sorry" isn't the last word I wish to speak for you to hear
And my apology refused - that of a chaste kiss.
No hold tonight, no soothing touch
Just cold words left in mind
No kiss to say "Forgive me please."
Just a broken dream left for sleep to find.
Fading lights, not a sound
The silence stills the night
I can feel your eyes even in the dark
The pressure between us still hasn't taken flight.
Stifled cry, drying tears
Your final words used to refuse my embrace
I dare not reach over to touch upon you
For you've refused me to even look upon your face.
Tired breath, easy sighs
Thoughts left alone tonight about this
"Sorry" isn't the last word I wish to speak for you to hear
And my apology refused - that of a chaste kiss.
No hold tonight, no soothing touch
Just cold words left in mind
No kiss to say "Forgive me please."
Just a broken dream left for sleep to find.
Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
Do people enjoy being pushed around? Or just hate doing things for themselves so when someone else takes the initiative, they have that opportunity to say "You made me."? I'm not an "I told you so." kind of person. But if you aren't going to do it for your own good and it affects me, then I'm going to look out for ME. Because, clearly, you aren't. Making him go to the doctor affected me and he made me feel terrible because I called his mother. Why? She's the only one I knew available to take him. Jaiden wouldn't stay with her and he wouldn't go himself. I didn't want to risk Jaiden or myself getting sick because...I have no insurance and don't have the money for OOP doctor visits. Nor, do I want a sick toddler.
If I hadn't done what I did, it would make me seem, like I didn't care. And worst case scenario, we all get sick.
..He's got an upper respiratory infection. Oh the joys. And like most men, when he's sick he turns into a big, whiny baby. Cranky and either stuck in bed, or in front the computer acting like an invalid. When I'm sick...I still have to gather the strength to do it all.
Ugh...
If I hadn't done what I did, it would make me seem, like I didn't care. And worst case scenario, we all get sick.
..He's got an upper respiratory infection. Oh the joys. And like most men, when he's sick he turns into a big, whiny baby. Cranky and either stuck in bed, or in front the computer acting like an invalid. When I'm sick...I still have to gather the strength to do it all.
Ugh...
I find myself..4.22.06
...disappointed a lot. And after that the anger comes. I think I have that anger more towards myself than anyone. For allowing.
For allowing the years to go by with no results.
For allowing promises to go unfulfilled.
For allowing myself to let go of what reality is and standing by 'hoping' alone.
For allowing myself to drift away into the nothingness of this apartment.
For allowing change, to not come from the most important person; me.
....
I could go on, but it would be mostly my fault.
I remember the days when I could write, and by write I mean, pen to paper, not fingers to keyboard. I adored the fact that no one wrote like that, no one took the time and effort to enjoy something so simple. And something so simple, brought me so much joy.
I told you it looked alright
I told you it was done ok
I turned off the lights and laid into your arms
When you said you wanted me to stay
I'm not saying it to bring you down
I'm not making it all my way
I just want you to know I'm not them
I don't want to be the one you blame one day.
I want you to know, more than this.
But I can't force your eyes wide
I can't make you see your mistakes in silence
I can't lock my voice up inside.
But I can only try to do so much
I can only say it so little each time
I don't want to be the enemy you come to hate
But I can't stand to watch our decline
So the more you push and point the finger
The more you make me hold back
I stand to lay that line in the open
And once I cross it, there's no coming back.
For allowing the years to go by with no results.
For allowing promises to go unfulfilled.
For allowing myself to let go of what reality is and standing by 'hoping' alone.
For allowing myself to drift away into the nothingness of this apartment.
For allowing change, to not come from the most important person; me.
....
I could go on, but it would be mostly my fault.
I remember the days when I could write, and by write I mean, pen to paper, not fingers to keyboard. I adored the fact that no one wrote like that, no one took the time and effort to enjoy something so simple. And something so simple, brought me so much joy.
I told you it looked alright
I told you it was done ok
I turned off the lights and laid into your arms
When you said you wanted me to stay
I'm not saying it to bring you down
I'm not making it all my way
I just want you to know I'm not them
I don't want to be the one you blame one day.
I want you to know, more than this.
But I can't force your eyes wide
I can't make you see your mistakes in silence
I can't lock my voice up inside.
But I can only try to do so much
I can only say it so little each time
I don't want to be the enemy you come to hate
But I can't stand to watch our decline
So the more you push and point the finger
The more you make me hold back
I stand to lay that line in the open
And once I cross it, there's no coming back.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Scars - 4.21.06
Scars are there to remind you
Scars are something you don't always see
Scars were made for you not to forget
Like you, they always seem to remind me.
Of a blatant lie, a broken promise
A moment I lived to regret
A tragedy made by accident or on purpose
A moment where I...the strong one, was made to submit.
A shattered thought, a tattered dream
Brought to my knees, I won't lie
It'll remind me of the darkness that shielded me
Shadowed the tears that i silently cried.
Its depth would remind me of the endurance
The blood, part of my soul I no longer hold
The scab that once marred flesh
Left a mark that shows itself now, so bold.
The insecurity I hide
The nerves that lay in a bind
Everything's now twisted and knotted
Mind, heart and soul, not only body, left behind.
My scars tell not only stories
But they give me fair warning of a past
Tells me that the journey is far from over
And each new scar I'll get is a moment longer I will last.
Scars are something you don't always see
Scars were made for you not to forget
Like you, they always seem to remind me.
Of a blatant lie, a broken promise
A moment I lived to regret
A tragedy made by accident or on purpose
A moment where I...the strong one, was made to submit.
A shattered thought, a tattered dream
Brought to my knees, I won't lie
It'll remind me of the darkness that shielded me
Shadowed the tears that i silently cried.
Its depth would remind me of the endurance
The blood, part of my soul I no longer hold
The scab that once marred flesh
Left a mark that shows itself now, so bold.
The insecurity I hide
The nerves that lay in a bind
Everything's now twisted and knotted
Mind, heart and soul, not only body, left behind.
My scars tell not only stories
But they give me fair warning of a past
Tells me that the journey is far from over
And each new scar I'll get is a moment longer I will last.
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